


When You Wish Upon A Star

by Libika



Series: The Storybook (Original Fairytale!AU) [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Don't kill me please, Fairy Tale Elements, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-15 22:09:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10558496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Libika/pseuds/Libika
Summary: Once upon a time. For isn't it how most tales begin? Stories full of magic, beautiful princesses and princes dancing the night away, valiant knights fighting the most dangerous of creatures and lovers reunited once again after a terrible series of events. Stories told to children as their mothers gently tucks them into bed, a kiss on the forehead and a prayer in their hearts that no nightmare will plague their child. There are so many stories to be told, such as the one of a great magician who learnt to be true to his heart and realized that he shouldn't be so afraid to love unconditionally. After all, in the previous tale, didn't I say that magic done out of love was the strongest magic of all? Which is why I hope that this story will touch you, even if just a little.Even if you can't hear me.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Important please read !!! 
> 
> \- This story is part of a series, and all stories are linked as characters get reincarnated in each story! I sincerely hope that you'll all enjoy reading these stories as much I enjoyed writing them! 
> 
> \- Here's a playlist that goes with this story : https://8tracks.com/realm-of-spells/writing-playlist-when-you-wish-upon-a-star
> 
> \- A gorgeous fanart made by hetteh-spegetteh on tumblr can be found on my blog! Thank you so much for the love Jacki!

_Once upon a time. For isn't it how most tales begin? Stories full of magic, beautiful princesses and princes dancing the night away, valiant knights fighting the most dangerous of creatures and lovers reunited once again after a terrible series of events. Stories told to children as their mothers gently tucks them into bed, a kiss on the forehead and a prayer in their hearts that no nightmare will plague their child. There are so many stories to be told, such as the one of a great magician who learnt to be true to his heart and realized that he shouldn't be so afraid to love unconditionally. After all, in the previous tale, didn't I say that magic done out of love was the strongest magic of all? Which is why I hope that this story will touch you, even if just a little._

 

_Even if you can't hear me._

 

_This is the story of a doll maker, who lived all alone, tending to his shop and dazzling creations, until he met a certain someone, or should I say, something. But they had met before, a long, long time ago. Despite living in a world full of magic, the doll maker didn't believe in miracles. He had stopped believing in them for quite a while, spending all this time making children happy when he didn't even know what happiness was. He didn't know what happiness was, for he was all by himself and was left all alone after the death of his mentor, who taught him all there was to know about his craft._

 

_And so each day, the doll maker brought a smile on children's faces..._

 

_*_

 

Each day, it was the same routine, a routine without breaks possible. He never slept nor ate, and devoted himself to his work. Creating beautiful dolls and toys from scratch, making children delighted beyond words as they gazed upon those lovely creations made of gold, silver and all the finest materials in the land. He wished he could sleep, unfortunately, he couldn't. It was tiring to be like that, yet it was how things were, and he couldn't do anything about it. For the city he was akin to a prince – always dressed in the finest clothes and handsome to a fault – he was an angel among men, too beautiful to be a mere human being. As soon as they would see him, walking down the street to buy more materials, he would constantly be lavished with gifts of all kinds – from expensive wines and perfumes to local delicacies, from invitations to balls to ribbons made of silk – and he never knew what to do with them.

 

_He could remember them clearly, the days he spent with this mentor. Yakov gently petting his hair, as if he was the man's own son, and not some sort of tool. Every day a whirlwind of colors – of fine materials being sawn into clothes and laugher – and every day a new adventure to be had. Surrounded by books, he helped the old man in his shop, carrying boxes and cleaning the shop, before starting to make his own dolls. He'd read all the books on the subject of doll making, yet had never made one himself. He was as tall, if not taller than Yakov and despite having the mind of an adult, he was in many ways akin to a child._

_The old man taught him how to saw costumes from scratch, how to cut each material with divine precision – and patience, so much patience -_

 

_His first doll was an abomination._

 

_Yakov laughed and patted his back._

 

Every time he received such expensive gifts, he would give them to the little boy who keeps on visiting his shop, practically begging him to make him his apprentice each time he came over. Well, the boy definitely was talented, there were no doubts about it. And despite this foul mouth of his – good lord, the words children's can learn – he was a sweet boy. Most of all, with this little blond creature inside his shop, he felt less lonely. Yuri was his only friend, and the boy was helpful beyond words, which was why he always made sure to give him the gifts he received. But most of all, having this little blond boy come to the shop made him feel less lonely.

 

He let out a light, yet faintly mechanical laugh – as if forced – thinking about this little boy. He enjoyed his late night walks. The city was quiet, as tall golden lampposts dimly illuminated the night, like stars scattered across the sky and as diamonds on a dark gown watched over him. This gave him an idea for a new doll. As he closed his eyes, he started to picture his soon to be creation. _Dark hair – he'll have to buy more materials tomorrow or ask Yuri to do it, bribing him with sweets should be enough – and he'll give it brown eyes with a hint of gold and silver, as if a fragment of the night sky was poured in those eyes. His eyes closed, he could picture it perfectly – all those lights at the festival, the sound of violins and laugher – another doll much like him, moving and thinking thanks to magic and well oiled cogs. Brown hair and a dazzling smile. As if he truly was alive._

 

When he opened his eyes, he felt strange. A déjà-vu of some sort. He didn't know why he remembered this festival just now. _'It was the last time Yakov went outside with me. Before his illness...I'd rather forget about it.'_ His dolls were all he had. His work was the only thing he had in this world. His creator was gone, been so for years, and there he was. Alone. The whole city loved him, but he didn't understand why or rather, he _couldn't_ understand why they loved him so.

 

_Lanterns and laugher glowing, the music – instruments and bodies alike creating new notes and sounds – and him, sitting all alone in a corner until a beautiful stranger, a gorgeous brown haired doll swept him off his feet and made him dance. All clad in blue and gold. He was craving something which he didn't know he needed in his life until now. He longed for this doll. Their dialogue of steps and smiles went beyond language itself. It was this mysterious feeling, this rush of emotions and sensations as you listen to a masterpiece, as you admire a painting, as you dance to the music. It's sparks and calming waves, fireworks and bursts of colors. Your reason may have forgotten about it, but your heart never does._

 

_Pianos and violins, crystal clear voices and harsh ones, a pure joyous mayhem._

 

He kept on hearing the melody of his feet on the snow, as he walked by the river. The city was much more pleasant at night, the quiet music making him wander through an ocean of thoughts, a sea of memories. Inspiration always came to him in the most surprising moments – _a walk by the river, as snowflakes fell, reminded him of crystals and fine blue silk, of princes and princesses dancing the night away, a love story begging to be told through a doll or two –_ yet no amount of dazzling ideas possibly could distract him from this never-ending ticking noise deep within his chest, a constant reminder that he would never feel at ease with others. A reminder that he was different from all his clients. A reminder that he couldn't sleep, weep, that instead of bones and flesh, golden cogs. It was such a peculiar situation, for they were alike in certain ways, yet their differences were akin to an abyss for him.

 

Yuri would lecture him – and what a thing, a little boy not even reaching Viktor's legs lecturing such a tall man – telling him that he was more human than some “of the folks I see everyday”. Nevertheless, he wanted to become like them. Was there no magic that could help him? If magic was what made him walk, made him think, made him talk. Then surely if there was a magic to force a bunch of jewels and cogs to think like a human being, there must be a magic to make him one.

 

He loved it when the city was so quiet at night, for it gave him some time to think. The city of stars and dazzling nights, the city of lovers and terrible frights.

 

But he also hated it.

 

For whenever he let his thoughts wander too far, he'd end up thinking about this horrible, horrible ticking noise. And yet it gave him hope that one day, his wishes would come true. He promised Yakov that no matter what, he's never lose hope. He didn't know how long this magic would last. He didn't know if his dreams would ever become true, if there was still hope for a doll. And so there he was, praying under the stars.

 

_'Please, if there's someone out there who can help me, please. I want to be human.'_

 

*

 

“ _Yakov, who is this woman?” the doll maker looked up to see his creation, meeting Viktor's curious eyes in the process. The doll was looking at an old photograph – Yakov was much younger, happier with a beautiful dancer – with such curiosity he couldn't help the light chuckle. He coughed soon afterwards, bringing his handkerchief to his lips before tucking it in his pocket. He stood up from his chair to stand next to Viktor, a gentle hand on his shoulder. Even though Viktor had the appearance of a young man, and could think like one, he still asked innocent questions about the world, questions much deeper than you'd think._

 

“ _This, my boy, is Lilya, my wife. She used to be a dancer, the greatest in all the kingdom actually.” He smiled, thinking about all those summer nights spent dancing together, like there was no tomorrow. As if illnesses and death were nothing but silly old things. “She'd put angels to shame on a stage but dear lord help you if you crossed her!” His light chuckles were mingled with coughs, and Viktor gently rubbed his back as a sign of comfort._

 

“ _Your wife? But I've never seen her at the shop nor with you.” Viktor was puzzled, wondering why he never got to meet her. Was his creator ashamed of him? Did something happen to her? Golden cogs turned faster and while Yakov found his doll's puzzled expression endearing, it didn't stop his own expression from becoming a bit somber – wrinkles becoming more and more apparent, the afternoon glow casting its light on his face – as melancholy took over. He'd been living for a long time now, and his illness was a grim reminder that he didn't have much time left. Viktor knew it, even though Yakov tried to put on a brave face, they both knew. Soon, Yakov would have to leave for eternity._

 

“ _She died a long time ago, Vitya.” At this, the poor doll bowed down his head. “No need to be like that, my boy. She had a long, fulfilling life and though we weren't married for long time, these years were the happiest of my life.” They both stayed silent for a few minutes – which felt like hours or if one was to exaggerate, years – not knowing what to say to the other. “She used to lecture me all the time, and boy was she good at it, but she was the kindest, bravest woman I ever knew. Even on her death bed, she smiled.”_

 

“ _Do you...still love her? Do you still miss her?” As soon as he uttered those words, he regretted them. Such questions may cause his creator grief, yet he knew that his curiosity would always get the better of him. There were so many things to be discovered and learnt about this world, and Love was no exception. He noticed how the villagers used it in so many different ways. Friends, family, lovers, books and trinkets, pets and our own self. And he understood it, yet didn't know – didn't think, couldn't believe that he could – if he could love. He was not made of flesh, yet could think._

 

_Yakov simply ruffled his hair and let his hand linger on his shoulder._

 

“ _Of course I miss her. I loved her dearly, Vitya. Before being my wife, she was my friend and though thinking about her now doesn't hurt as much as it used to, I still miss her. But I don't feel alone. Do you know why?”_

 

“ _Not really...what do you mean by that?”_

 

“ _It's because I have you by my side. You're a doll, that is true, but never forget that you're first and foremost my son. Nothing will change that.” His creator patted his head, like a father would do so for his child. “I love you, my little boy.” And though Viktor couldn't quite understand what love was, he embraced Yakov, a sweet smile gracing his lips. Soon enough, they would be separated. Every second counted, every embrace and exchange was to be cherished._

 

“ _I love you too.”_

 

_*_

 

He loved quiet days, when clients were few, and the only sounds that could be heard was childish laugher and merchants chatting idly with their customers. Today, Yuri was supposed to come to the shop to help, though not before nightfall. He'd grown so used to the little boy's presence that the silence reigning in the shop felt strange. Normally, he'd hear Yuri's complains and bright laugher when his grandfather felt strong enough to come visit the shop. The way he'd pat his grandson's head reminded him of Yakov and though the man died years ago, Nikolai reminded him of his creator. He knew he had friends – Yuri, Christophe, even the traveling merchants who'd come by the shop to bring dolls to their children – but he always felt so out of place, for he was not human. Yet the poor Viktor couldn't realize that while they perfectly knew that he was a doll, they didn't care for he was kinder than most human beings.

 

Nevertheless, it was nice to have the shop to himself from time to time.

 

The bright colors of materials, mingling with those of the stained glass windows – _blue, red, gold dancing on Viktor's face –_ the sound of his hands sewing, faint yet creating a sweet melody. Sewing and sewing, cutting an drawing, creating new clothes and having new ideas. He remembered this doll he saw one day, during this festival. Tried to remember which shade of blue his clothes were, sewing skirts and trousers with silver stars and golden moons and oh, I'll have to ask Christophe if he can make a small pair of glasses, I can't do that myself. He was so lost in his own little world of memories and creations, he didn't notice that his skirt was covered in glitter. It was not until he finally decided to look down that realized that his black skirt was now shimmering like the night sky.

 

“Oh dear. And I just cleaned it this morning...” He sighed before standing up, making most of the glitter fall on the ground. Yet, as some remained on his dark skirt, he was struck by the contrast. _A festival – reds and warm colors mingling, yet one single doll clad in blues – he remembered the contrast of silver against the dark night sky and the doll's hair full of glitter and pearls. Amidst the laugher and loud voices, he was a quiet presence._ He sat down, kept on sewing and sketching, trying to remember this last moment of happiness – Yakov smiling and drunk on wine, the doll's shy smiles, the music – it was a waltz between sadness, melancholy and happiness, inspiration. He was lost in the past, as he used it to embellish the present.

 

_Black, heeled boots and powder blue shoelaces. He could faintly hear their clicking on the wooden floor. He didn't know the doll's name, he wished he had asked so he could put a name on his muse. He could still remember the lips painted red and the magic in the air. One step, two steps, an entire waltz and as he kept on looking at the doll, he didn't notice that his muse was now inviting him to dance. He was shy, he admitted so, but he had noticed that Viktor was looking at him. Viktor couldn't help but stare, he felt like a lover who found his other half after a eternity had passed._

 

He let his memories guide the needle, as he carefully started to piece blue and glitter together. Soon, Yuri would come for another lesson and help him out. His bed was already made and he even bought him some sweets from the market. He knew that the tiger-shaped ones were his favorites, so he always made sure to keep some for his little boy. _“Although I'm glad that Yuri comes by so often, I wish he had more friends. It would be nice if he had a friend. I don't know how much longer my magic will last, and even though the villagers will look after him and Nikolai...I don't him to feel alone. One day, neither Nikolai nor I will be there to look after him.”_ Viktor decided not to let his thoughts wander too far, rather focusing again on the task at hand.

 

The stained glass windows kept on playing with him, as if his skin was their canvas. The clock's ticking noise and the chatter outside were akin to the most wondrous of melodies to him. He didn't stop working on his new doll, except when a few customers came in to retrieve the toys they ordered. At some point, a bird flew inside the shop and used Viktor's hair as its own nest, before flying away. The florist, a lovely young man named Phichit, came by to bring fresh flowers for those those in the vase had already withered away. And every time he dropped by, he never failed to worry about this lonely doll with a heart larger than some of those made of flesh and pumping blood.

 

He always thought of the beautiful doll he saw, such a long time ago. He wanted to see him again, wanted to fill his life with beauty once again. Perhaps he didn't have so much time before the magic is no more, and as childish as it sounds, he wanted to see this doll once again. He couldn't help but think that long before this festival they met. In another life, in another time. _He was smitten. But this was no normal attraction, it was a longing for a lost love. Looking at him was like looking at your life-long lover, yet they never met before. A happy moment which was then followed by the loss of his dearest friend, father and creator._

 

He didn't pay attention to the clock until the door was opened and laugher filled the shop.

 

*

 

“ _Yuri, I told you to be careful when you're cleaning the shop” He applied some alcohol on the boy's cut, making sure to do so slowly, for Yuri's eyes were still red and puffy. He carefully wrapped a bandage around his hand, trying to calm his little boy at the same time. “It's okay, Yuri. This is just a little cut, it's going to heal in no time. You'll be able to finish building your doll soon enough. I'll clean the shop, today, okay?” He took a handkerchief from his pocket and dried his tears. Yuri was always laughing loudly, always speaking his mind and was a bubbly, sweet child despite his foul mouth. It pained him to see him like this, especially over something as trivial as a little cut. Yet, even as he had finished drying his apprentice's tears, the boy's cries got louder, and he was downright sobbing._

 

“ _I am so sorry Viktor! I am really sorry, I am so sorry -” he kept apologizing, and Viktor didn't know why._

 

“ _Yuri, why are you apologizing, there's no need to -”_

 

“ _But I – your photo – it's all – I am so sorry!” Oh so this is why. When Yuri was dusting the shelves, he made a photograph fall from one of them, and cut his hand. Although the cut was nothing serious, he still bled quite a bit on the photograph, which was a picture Viktor took with Yakov a few months after he was built. He smiled fondly, before embracing Yuri. The boy kept on crying, although his apologies were muffled by Viktor's shirt. He patted his back trying to soothe him. He didn't care that the boy was wetting his shirt and covering it with snot. He let Yuri sit on his lap, and tightened his embrace._

 

“ _Oh Yuri, you have nothing to be sorry for. It was an accident. And you know what?” He let go of Yuri, so they could be face to face. He cupped his wet cheeks and gave him a bright smile. “I am just glad that your cut was nothing serious. So please, stop crying, I hate seeing you like this.” He wiped the tears with his sleeve. “You are going to take a good nap and then, we'll go to the market to buy some sweets. I'll buy you the tiger-shaped ones.” Yuri nodded weakly, doing his best to smile. Yuri, despite appearances, was caring beyond words and when he loved, he loved with all his might. When some travelers criticized Viktor's works, Yuri defended him even though he insisted that this was nothing serious._

 

_And though Yuri was well aware that he was not human, he never treated him any differently. For him, he was as human as he was and most of all, he considered Viktor a dear friend. He'd yell at Viktor and hug him like his life depended on it the next minute. Whenever he had problems with the other children and his grandfather was working, he'd run straight to Viktor's shop, who'd always welcome him with open arms and a warm smile. He always kept the finest sweets and pastries for his little boy, and this was why he was so worried about disappearing. His shop became Yuri's refuge, his second home, and if Viktor wasn't there anymore, he felt like he'd be betraying his friend._

 

_But most of all, he couldn't, wouldn't stand seeing Yuri cry. Sadness could not always be escaped nor avoided, and tears couldn't always be stopped, but he'd do everything in his power to make Yuri happy for as long as possible, as much as possible. Playing with him, letting him help at the shop, ruin all the fabrics he wanted, anything to see a bright grin on this boy's face. He'll give him his shop. He even wrote a will in case he disappears sooner then he thought he would. He'll give him everything. His fame, his skills, his love. He was not human, nor did he ever think he deserved to be, but he could at least do this for him._

 

_He had friends, but this little boy was the one who brought light and colors in his tiny little shop. No fabric, no jewel was brighter than his smile. No melody was grander than his laugh as Viktor tickled him._

 

_When he first met the boy, he instantly loved him. When the little boy – with stars in his eyes, and awe in his voice when talking of the doll maker's creations – begged him to let him become his apprentice, he said yes without thinking twice about it. Somehow, he knew he'd be an excellent apprentice and would become better than he was in no time. Somehow. Somehow, he knew. He couldn't explain it. It was as if he'd known Yuri all his life. And perhaps he did. Perhaps they met in another life, at another time._

 

_When his little apprentice fell asleep, he carried him to the sofa and put a blanket over his body. He kissed his forehead, pushed his hair back and as he headed towards the door, he heard Yuri's voice. Weak, nothing but a whisper._

 

“ _I love you Viktor.” The boy must have been speaking in his sleep. As Viktor closed the door, he couldn't help the smile from blooming on his lips._

 

“ _I love you too.”_

 

_Sleep well and sweet dreams, my little boy._

 

_The next day, Yuri didn't leave his side. He held unto Viktor like a child to his father, constantly apologizing. And every apology was met with a smile, an embrace and a kiss on the forehead. He laid on the sofa, holding his little apprentice close to his heart, wrapping his arms tightly around his little boy._

 

“ _Can we stay like this a bit longer, Viktor?”_

 

“ _Anything to make you happy, my little boy.”_

 

*

 

“Ah, Yuri! You're here at last!” The little boy ran towards Viktor's open arms, kissing him on the cheek. It was then that Viktor noticed the other boy still waiting by the door. He seemed a bit shy and reserved, hesitating to enter the shop. Perhaps Yuri had finally made a friend after all. “Yuri, why don't you introduce your friend?” The little boy grabbed his friend's hand and whispered something Viktor couldn't quite catch. He didn't know what Yuri told his friend, but the latter seemed a bit more at ease, and as he entered the shop, he made sure to politely greet Viktor and even gave him a little bow. _“What an adorable child. Although I feel like I've met him somewhere...it must be my imagination.”_

 

“This is Otabek! We were in the same group when grandpa sent me on a trip !” Yuri was happier than usual, which was a good change. “Beka, this is Viktor!” Viktor met Otabek's eyes, and he could feel the boy's eyes on his hand, his face, his entire body. He realized that Viktor was not human, but didn't seem to mind, instead trying his best to be polite. “ _Yuri must have told him. After all, people from other kingdoms aren't necessarily used to it.”_

 

“Nice to meet you. I'm sorry for the bother. I just arrived here with my mom and my sister.” Viktor ruffled his hair, with a warm smile.

 

“You're not bothering me at all, my boy. Any friend of Yuri is welcome here, and you can spend the night with him here if you want.” He tried to see if Otabek had some clothes with him, but couldn't see any. “Oh my, you don't have any clothes with you, do you?” Both boys seemed to realize their mistake, as Yuri also forgot to bring his own nightgown. Viktor chuckled, before standing up and leading them to their room. “I have a few shirts that you can use for tonight boys. But please don't drool on it this time Yuri.” He couldn't see the boy, but if his groan and Otabek's chuckle were anything to go by, he was probably beetroot. He took two shirts from his closet and put them on the bed.

 

He took his time, watching Yuri and his friend. How much Yuri had grown over the past years. He would soon be thirteen and it was only reminder that one day, he won't need Viktor anymore. One day, he'll be an adult, will either over the shop or build one of his own. He didn't know how long the magic would last, so he'd enjoy every day like it was the last. He'll take of his little boy until his cogs stopped and his painted face decayed.

 

While Yuri was getting his tools ready, Viktor beckoned Otabek to come with him, near his stool. He asked him if he had any experience at all when it came to sewing, cutting fabrics or carving dolls so that he could work with Yuri. His mother was a seamstress, and he knew the basics of sewing, which was more than enough. He brought the bowl of sweets from his room and place it on his own desk – much bigger and older than Yuri's and waited for Yuri sit down so that he could explain to his little friends what they'd have to do. Otabek would be in charge of getting all the materials ready – cut them neatly following Viktor's instructions and try to sew some pieces if he could – while Yuri would get started on the carving of small dolls.

 

As Viktor was practically done with his work, he decided to bring the boys some milk – it was getting quite late, but oh well, nothing could be done – and as he carried the two glasses, he caught his reflection in the mirror.

 

And almost dropped the two glasses.

 

The man in the mirror was nothing like him, yet they had the same face, the same body, the same height. The one reflected in the mirror had long hair – and pearls, jewels mingling with the strands – as he put his hand on the glass it was as if he was looking at someone else. He could see a golden staff in his reflection's hands instead of two glasses. Yet, as soon as he blinked, his reflection was back to normal. He didn't know what was wrong. He didn't know what had just happened. He didn't know whether or not dolls could get tired, but maybe he was. Maybe this was a sign that Yakov's magic was reaching its limits. Maybe what he saw was nothing but a trick of the light. Surely it was nothing to worry about.

 

He brought the two glasses of milk to the boys and checked on their work.

 

He made sure to close all the windows and close the backdoor, before telling Yuri and Otabek that he was going out for a few minutes. Simply walk near the shop, by the river. He kissed them both on the head and told them he'd be back shortly.

*

 

“ _You know Vitya, there is a legend about this river.” Yakov held his hand as they walked by the river at night, as all the stars in the heavens were reflected on the water. Viktor stayed silent, waiting for his creator to continue. “They say that if you make a wish there with someone you love, it will definitely become true.” Viktor seemed to think about this for a while. Oh well, quite a long time, to the point where Yakov grew a bit worried and sighed. He asked Viktor to sit down with him by the water. “Now, what is it? Are overthinking things again?One day you're going to make your cogs burst out of your head my boy.”_

 

“ _Do you think...that even my wishes can come true?” Viktor started playing with the hem of his shirt, embarrassed as soon as the question left his lips. “I mean, I'm not human and all that...stuff. ”_

 

“ _Why wouldn't they? Your wishes are as valid as anyone else's!” Yakov tapped his back. “You may not be human, but your feelings are real. There as real as you, me or the whiny blond child who's been screaming his lungs out ever since his mum moved here!” Yakov's passioned rant made Viktor chuckle, completely forgetting about his embarrassment. Relieved to see his son calmer and happier, he continued. “When I created you, it was because I wanted a son. I desperately wanted a son, I didn't know wether or not my magic would be enough. But you finally opened your eyes...You have no idea how happy I was.” Viktor stayed silent, unsure of what to say._

 

_Yakov never failed to comfort him, no matter the circumstances. He truly thought of Viktor as his son, as his child and still was trying to find a way to make him human. He had talked to magicians and consulted dozens of books, and yet, nothing. But he never stopped loving him. And more than once, when he'd find Yakov dozing off on his desk – stack of books on the wooden table and an unfinished glass of brandy on the table – he felt like he wasn't worth the effort. Yakov created him, and for him that was enough. He longed to be a man, but it was a childish wish he held onto with no hope of ever seeing it become true._

 

“ _Listen Vitya. You may not be a man, but for me, you're as human as any of us. Maybe one day, you'll be human, but if even if you're not, there are people who love you. Like Christophe for example.” At the mention of another local artisan, Viktor was surprised._

 

“ _Chris?”_

 

“ _Yes my boy. When he and his lover - you remember him, Phichit the florist's son – come by the shop, they constantly ask about you. Phichit even said that when he becomes the owner of his mother's shop, he'll give you discounts on all the flowers. Christophe is always worried about you, asking me if you haven't forgotten to eat or sleep, even though I explained to him that things don't work like that.” Yakov sighed. “Sometimes, I feel like they are more nagging than I am.” Viktor chuckled, and they stayed there, by the river in a pleasant silence. His sadness still lingered, yet he felt at ease with his father, content to watch the river and see the fireflies dance without a care in the world. As they both watched the water, the night sky, they saw a single shooting star. It was the first time Viktor saw one and he grabbed Yakov's sleeve excitedly._

 

“ _Yakov, look!”_

 

“ _Come on, Vitya, make a wish.”_

 

_Viktor closed his eyes and..._

 

“I wish that you'll always be with me.” Sitting on a bench by the riverside, Viktor remembered all those wonderful moments he spent by Yakov's side. The dancing fireflies and calming breeze guiding his mind through an ocean of thoughts, a sea of memories. “You know Yakov, even though I have friends who love me, I wish I could be human. I want to be a real man and...” he took a deep breath. “I wish I could meet this other doll again. I don't know why, I've been thinking of him lately. He reminded me of all the moments I share with you.” He was thankful to be alone now, if people had seen him talking alone like this they would have thought that he was mad, he felt like he needed to simply say out loud how he felt.

 

The simple act of voicing out his feelings was enough. He didn't need someone to answer, to ask questions, to urge him on.

 

“Yuri made a friend you know? When he first came to the shop, he was shorter than the desk. He's getting better now and I'm glad that he made a friend, at least if I'm not here anymore, if Nikolai or his mother aren't here anymore, he'll have someone. And there are Phichit and Christophe to take care of him too. They got married last year, and Phichit took over his mother's shop after you died. They're really nice to me. They come by as much as they can.” Sadness was overtaking him, yet he couldn't cry. He couldn't feel his chest tightening yet could _feel_ sadness. “I don't know how long your magic will last. I miss you so much, _father_. ”

 

He never managed to call him father, until he died.

 

He never stopped loving him. Even when he broke an expensive vase. Even when he lashed out at Yakov, his father always forgave him. Always stayed with him and loved him unconditionally. He knew that Yakov would have wanted a real son, but nevertheless he treated Viktor like a real boy. He'd lecture him and teach him his trade, he'd call him “my son”, “my boy”, “Vitya” . And though he'd believe Yakov when he tried to reassure him, he still felt like he didn't deserve all this love. He loved his friends, he'll always love Yakov, but he'd always feel like he didn't belong. He'd forget about it, but whenever he was alone, he'd inevitably think about these dark thoughts. For such thoughts couldn't be kept in a drawer, closed shut with a golden key. There are thoughts that hide within a small, almost unnoticeable corner of your mind, waiting to haunt you whenever you were on your own.

 

“If your magic truly is strong, then i'll outlive my friends, if it isn't, they will outlive me. I'd rather age with them. I want to laugh with them and cry with them. I want to see Yuri grow up and become taller than me. I want to _live_. But it's been such a long time. And I feel like I don't deserve to be human like the rest of them. No fairy came, no magician with a magic wand.” As he stood up, ready to walk back inside his shop, he looked back at the water one last time. “ Despite that, I want to stay with them as long as I can, if it's just for a few days.” He'd cling unto this small, tiny hope even if he had no faith in himself.

 

“Sleep well, father.” Viktor was sitting by Yakov's bedside, grasping the sheets. No tears, yet an ocean that begged to be poured out of those eyes. The doctor gave him his condolences, a hand on Viktor's shoulder, an apology untold. “I promise I'll look after the shop, and I'll make you proud. I promise father. In the end, you didn't stay with me a-an-and I can't even cry for you. I can't even cry even now. And I can still hear the cogs and all these mechanical sounds. But it's a proof I'm still there, so I'll look after everything you've left me. I promise.” And he left the riverside, he didn't notice the figure observing him from the shadows – hiding among the flowers - a sad smile on their face and a single tear rolling down their cheek.

 

Their partner soon came behind them, embracing them and kissing their forehead to soothe them.

 

_'All you need is to believe Viktor. Believe in yourself and your dreams will become true.'_

 

_*_

 

“Hey Beka, could you pass me the red paint?” Yuri managed to get done with his “assignment” sooner than he thought, and decided to start painting it. Yet as soon as Otabek handed him the pot, they heard a loud crash coming from the backyard. Startled by the sound, Yuri dropped the painting pot, letting be shattered in pieces and red cover the wooden floor. Both boys froze, wondering what they should do until Viktor came back. Even though they knew it could be dangerous, they decided to go upstairs and look what caused the sound from the balcony. There were a few lanterns lighting it and the upper floor was not this high up, so they'd be able to see what happened.

 

The upper floor was rarely used by Viktor, and he simply used it to store various items. As such, it was a bit dusty but was still in a good state, and the balcony hadn't been demolished. As both boys opened the door to it, they looked down at the small, tiny garden that acted as Viktor's backyard. And there, illuminated by the lanterns, Yuri saw it. A figure, dressed in fine silks was laying among the roses and lilies, his attire visibly damaged. He felt a sudden wave of nostalgia as he looked at the doll's face. _The same person dressed in robes, a staff in his hand and a bright smile on his face, and words of encouragements for an exam. And then, the same person once again dancing with him at a festival – after his grandfather had just recovered from an illness – grabbing his hands and dancing with him, making him laugh._

 

“Yuri, are you okay? What is it?” Otabek's words put him out of his reverie.

 

“We need to help him. It's – it's a doll. Viktor can fix him.” Yuri was getting ready to go downstairs, his friend following suit. “We gotta bring him inside.”

 

“Wait a sec.” Yuri stopped in his tracks, visibly shaken. “Is this someone you know? You looked at him like he was a ghost or something.” Yuri seemed to think about it for a while, unsure of what to say nor how to say it.

 

“Yeah. I know him.” _It's a long story but I do._

 

*

 

_He still wondered how people managed to convince an entire orchestra to play at the festival. At first, he didn't want to go. Hiroko and Toshiya, his creators, got affected by a terrible illness which has been affecting their hometown. When he thought about it, he had a happy life by their side. But things started to change when Mari died in an accident at work. They grew overprotective of him and eventually, their worry for their son's safety – along with their illness – made their health wither away. They were talented doll makers and to make a living one had been one of their dearest wishes, and though Yuuri was a doll, they treated him like a human man and taught him all he knew._

 

_And though he loved them dearly, he declined on the offer of taking over the shop. A family friend will so do. His dream was to be a dancer, and even if he was no man or if his parents' magic wouldn't last for long, he wanted to do it. He wanted to dance, for it was the one thing in this world that made him smile, that brought his parents happiness. He hadn't planned on going, he wanted to stay by them for their light could fade out at any moment and he wanted to be there with them when it would. But they had insisted. Go my boy, a carriage will come by, go have fun and meet other people! And so he did, all clad in blues and gold, with his favorite pair of high heeled shoes, and his hair slicked back._

 

_He was nervous, but as soon as he arrived he let himself be lost in the notes. He could feel every instrument resonate within him and every laugher echo within his soul, for though he was not made of flesh nor did he have a heart, his soul was as brilliant as the sun._

 

_He saw how a little boy, whose name was the same as his own, looked at him in awe. He looked at the boy's grandfather, asking if it was okay, and raised the boy up , swiping him off his feet, and making him laugh. And aren't you a delight, little boy? And though the blond boy complained and insisted that he was not little, the bright smile on his lips and the light pink painting his cheeks was proof of his happiness. He put the boy down and as he was getting ready to dance on his own, he caught a glance of another doll, looking at him from the other side of the dance floor. Taller than him, with a smile that could make the angels melt._

 

_One look._

 

_One smile was all it took for him to sweep Viktor's off his feet. He felt like he'd known him all his life. As if he was simply finding a lost lover amidst the music, and the whirlwind of colors. He took his hand and step by step, chest to chest, hands clasping, they danced to Love itself. For minutes, perhaps an hour – after all, who knew – they let themselves be lost in a world where there were no magic that could wither away any second, no dolls with hopeless dreams or loved ones close to kissing them goodbye. For this dance, this pure moment of bliss, was a chance to forget about all the pain. They laughed this mechanical laugh of theirs, they smiled and though their sadness and worries would be back tomorrow, they didn't care for now._

 

_For all that mattered now was the music._

 

_He wanted to engrave this moment in his memory for the rest of his life, for despite all his worries and sad memories, he'd at least have a good one among this ocean of tears. He'd always remember this gorgeous doll, his smile, the way his long skirt would swirl as they moved. And though he didn't know whether or not they would again, he hoped that somehow they would. One step, two steps, three steps, two figures melting into one under the moonlight. The first song ended, and the second one began, they completely lost themselves, submitting their souls to the sky, the music, the magic of it all. Blessed by the stars, Viktor let himself be guided in this dance by this angel and the clicking of his heels on the floor._

 

_*_

 

As soon as Viktor opened the door to his shop – and home – he felt weird, couldn't put his finger on what was wrong. He put his keys in on the counter and headed towards the back. The candles were still lit and intact, his customers' orders were all ready and wrapped up with a beautiful silver ribbon on top of each package and a little card thanking them for their support. He stopped to look at one of the orders and smiled. This specific doll took him a lot of time to make – just getting the materials had taken him a long time and painting it had demanded such divine precision - and he considered it to be one of his best works.

 

The customer in question was a regular, named Tiam, who often bought toys for his younger siblings here. This doll, on the other hand, was a gift for his husband, as they would soon celebrate their tenth anniversary. He could still remember how brightly his green eyes were shining, and his cheeks painted pink as he spoke of his husband. And when he came by a few days earlier to see the final product, he was so impressed that he cried on the spot and embraced tightly Viktor, thanking him over and over and even paying him more money than was necessary.

 

What a lovely man.

 

“Yuri, Otabek, I'm back!” As he arrived to the working area, he noticed that his boys weren't there and saw the broken bottle of red paint, the footprints staining the wooden floor until they reached his own room. Growing worried by the minute, Viktor ran towards his room, scarred beyond words. Scarred that something might have happened to his little boys. “Yuri! Otabek!” He frantically opened the door and the sight that welcomed him was enough to make him speechless. Otabek and Yuri were both kneeling by the bed – he didn't need one but it was Yakov's bed originally, so he never sold it – and stopped what they were doing to look at Viktor.

 

He couldn't take his eyes off the figure on the bed.

 

It was him, his muse. The beautiful doll he danced with, clad in blue and gold. When he entered the room, he had been reading to give a good scolding to the boys, but now, he couldn't bring himself to do anything. Yuri was the one who broke the silence first.

 

“Viktor, we're really sorry but, we had to get him here. You remember him, don't you?” Viktor caressed the doll's face, still unable to believe it. “He was at the festival last year.” He took a deep breath, before continuing. “His cogs are still working but some of them needs to be changed, since he's...'sleeping'.” Both boys stood up to sit next to Viktor on the other side of the bed to apologize again.

 

“Still, we're really sorry for making you worry.” It was Otabek who had spoken. Viktor simply nodded and hugged them both, relieved and happier than he ever was since Yakov left this world.

 

“It's okay. You did the right thing, boys.” _'Thank you, thank you so much.'_ “Now, bring me my toolbox. We're going to fix him up!” Eager to help their friend – and relieved that they wouldn't get scolded – both boys thanked Viktor and got ready to head to the working area. As soon as they left, Viktor kissed the other doll's forehead. They had only met briefly at this festival, but he felt like he always knew him. He could faintly hear the cogs, the tickling sound coming from his chest, yet his melody was different than his own, no doubt because of the cogs that needed to be changed. As long as the magic was still there, a living doll could still be repaired. Although this one was the only one he knew of. He'd been thinking about him, about how he was part of one of his good memories. He felt like a man dying of thirst who had found his oasis at last. Now, all the people he cared about were by his side and if his father's magic withered away tomorrow, the only regret he'd have would be that he never found a way to be human.

 

Maybe he could get to know this beautiful doll in the time being.

 

*

 

The boys were fast asleep when Yuuri opened his eyes. He looked at the room, this unknown, wonderful place with bluebirds adoring the walls and another doll with a fond smile on his lips. And one look was all it took for him to remember. This dance, their smiles and laugher. Viktor explained to him the situation, how the boys found him in his backyard, how he fixed him up, where he was. Yuuri took it all in without asking any question, as Viktor moved to sit more comfortably on the bed and still held his hand. Yuuri covered Viktor's own hand with his. Perhaps it was love at first sight or something else, something much stronger, but as soon as they gazed into each other's eyes, they simply knew.

 

“Thank you for what you've done for me, Viktor. It was very kind of you. I'll have to thank your little friends in the morning.” Yuuri was as beautiful as Viktor remembered, even though his clothes were damaged, it was nothing he couldn't fix. “I can't believe I forgot to take care of myself on my way to come here” He let out an exasperated sigh which slowly let place to a small, fond smile. “But at least, I could find you again.”

 

“Please, Yuuri. You don't have to thank me. I'm just...glad we could meet again.” At the mention of their meeting, Yuuri offered Viktor a dazzling smile. “I know I'm going to sound like the craziest doll in the world, but when we first met, I felt like we met before. Like we met somewhere else or at another time.” Yuuri kept on listening to him, as Viktor told him about the night they first met and what happened after. How Yakov died and spent his last days begging Viktor to never lose hope, how he decided to protect his little boy no matter what – and, Yuurit thought, forgetting about his own happiness in the process – and how Yuuri inspired him.

 

And in turn, Yuuri told him how dancing with him that night reminded him of the reasons he loved it. The smile it had brought on his partner's face, the grin on his own, even though this night ended up being followed by death. They felt like it wasn't the first time they met, that in another era, in another world, they were together just like they were now. As they talked, Yuuri's hand never left Viktor's. He told him about his dream of becoming a dancer, even though he wasn't sure how much time he had left.

 

“It would have been nice to be human, I would have to worry about other things but not about magic running out or feeling so weird around other people all the time.” Yuuri sighed. “But I suppose everyone has their problems too. I just wish I could feel what other people feel. Not just an echo. I never managed to find a spell or someone to help me.” Yuuri

 

“If you don't mind, Yuuri, I would love it if you could stay here a little while longer.” Viktor spoke with confidence, yet it was that of a dying man, one who wanted those dear to him close so that he could disappear without any regret. “You and Yuri are part of my happiest memories. I'd love to spend more time with you, if you're okay with it, that is.” Viktor was sure that if he was human, his hands would be sweating by now, just like those two girls who came to his shop during their first date. He felt like he was just a normal man, asking another one on a date.

 

But it reassured him to see that Yuuri was feeling the same way. He couldn't look at Viktor, tried to avoid eye contact with him, but nodded nonetheless.

 

“It would be my pleasure.” He paused, desperately trying to gather the courage to continue. “If you'd like, I could teach you some dances.” _'And try to make you realize that you deserve all this love, that you deserve to be human.'_ Viktor embraced Yuuri, overcome with a happiness he forgot he could even feel.

 

“Yeah, I'd like that.” He felt Yuuri's arms around his waist, how familiar it felt. “I'd like that very much.” For now, he was content sitting there, talking with Yuuri and showing him some of his works and telling him stories. This music box was for an old lady, who was all alone – for she had no family – and was ordered by a group of children she took care of. They all worked hard to earn enough money to buy her a music box. Though he was a doll maker, he explained to Yuuri, he also liked to make other toys as well, especially when children asked so nicely. This doll was for a wedding anniversary, and as the customer's husband had blue eyes, the beautiful creation was clad in various shades of blue. Though Viktor couldn't realize it, his dolls were works of art. Yuuri was amazed by every single detail, by the vibrant colors and love poured into it. Viktor obviously loved his work, he remembered every single detail about his customers - and spoke of them with great respect and affection – every gesture, every word was said with gusto. Yuuri felt at ease like this, just listening to him.

 

For now, he was content to hear him talk and laugh that mechanical laugh of his.

 

And to hear your beloved laugh was a delight beyond compare.

 

*

 

From the room he shared with Otabek, Yuri watched Viktor chatting with Yuuri and his grin was big enough to split his face in two. He climbed back on his bed, carefully so as to not wake Otabek up, and went to his window. He rested his elbows on the windowsill and looked at the stars high up in the sky. His grandfather often told him stories about stars, wishes and magic. And though he didn't believe all of them, he somehow did now. He'd wish upon a star, just this once. He didn't want to lose anyone, now that they were together. The little stars reflected in his bright, green eyes as he begged them to listen to him, to his whispered plea.

 

“Please. I know I said to grandpa that I didn't believe in you, but I promise I will if you help me. Can you please make sure we'll always be together?” He looked at the door once again, heard the crystal clear laugher once again. “I don't wanna lose my family. I don't wanna lose my friends. So please, promise me everyone will be okay. Promise me that their magic isn't gonna disappear anytime soon.” He went back to laying on the bed, holding his friend's hand. He didn't go back to sleep instantly. Rather, he listened to a sweet, unique lullaby made of whispered words and laugher.

 

And as he finally let himself fall asleep, he thought that this melody sounded oddly familiar.

 

*

 

The next morning, Yuuri was wearing new clothes made by Viktor. The night before, he had managed to find some clothes that fit him and there he was, clad in clothes made of the finest materials with his heels cleaned and Viktor looking at him as if he was a treasure to be cherished. A dance was all it had taken. A dance and fate. For they both felt like they'd known each other for an eternity. They let the boys eat while they cleaned the shop, until it was time to open it. Since Viktor would be busy, Yuuri suggested that he could dance with the boys in the backyard. Viktor and Yuri asked Otabek if his mother would be okay with him coming back home later than planned, and right after he nodded, Yuri dragged the other doll and his friend to the backyard, despite Yuuri asking him to slow down, Yuri!

 

Viktor chuckled at the sight, and welcome the first customer...which happened to be Phichit, delivering some flowers with Christophe.

 

“Hello, Viktor! I brought you new flowers, they were freshly picked so you better like them.” He put them on the the nearest table, to let Viktor admire his work. Irises and blue violets, with a single immaculate ribbon wrapped around them. Although he couldn't smell them, the beautiful colors and presentation was more than enough to make someone drool. Christophe greeted him and hugged him, a tight bear hug and Viktor swore he heard a crack. “Sweetie, you're going to break Viktor if you keep doing this.” Chris let go of him with a light chuckle.

 

“My bad, my bad! It's just that I've been so busy, the only times we got to talk were when you came to the shop to buy more materials.” Viktor said that he had also been busy lately – and quite frankly, a lot had happened within a week. Since there weren't any customer for now, Viktor suggested they sit near the garden to have a cup of tea. Well, them at least. Chris and Phichit looked at Yuuri and the boys dancing in the garden, surrounded by flowers and illuminated by the sunlight. They danced in circles and held hands, they smiled and laughed and just from the look of it, Viktor knew he'd have to ask Yuri and Otabek to take a bath before heading home. Viktor explained to Phichit and Christophe how he got to meet Yuuri, how his little boys found him yesterday.

 

“I feel like I've known him for a long time, but we only met a year ago.” He never let his eyes go off Yuuri. “But even then, when we danced together, it felt...right. I think that maybe, in another life, we met and were together. And Yuuri said something similar.” He looked back at his friends. “You must probably think we're both crazy, don't you?” Phichit shook his head and sipped on his tea with a smile.

 

“I don't. Chris and I felt the same way when we first met. And I don't think it's just a feeling.” He let Chris continue.

 

“There are a lot of things we don't know about the world and magic. Soulmates, reincarnation, past lives. All of these are possible explanations, Viktor.” Christophe flicked his wrist and made appear a few butterflies, which batted their wings around them. While he was no magician, or so Viktor was told by Christophe himself, he could at least do certain tricks. As they changed colors yet conserved the same form, Christophe kept on talking. “ We may find ourselves in different times, in different forms, but in the end, nothing changes and we always end up finding each other. Even if our time together is short, it doesn't make it any less important and special.” Viktor simply sat there, listening to his friend, looking at the butterflies happily flying, before talking once again.

 

“I suppose you're right. Thank you.” They kept on chatting about Yuuri, about various things such as the new policies within the kingdom, new flowers Phichit have gotten or new fabrics Christophe may have received. All the while Yuuri danced and talked with his new little friends in the sun. Viktor had to ask his friends to leave unfortunately, for some customers started to arrive, and needed to pay for their orders. And though this seemed to be a normal, ordinary day for Viktor, the sun seemed a little brighter, the colors more dazzling, and Yuuri was even more beautiful than he was in his memories.

 

Christophe and Phichit kissed their friend goodbye and wished him a nice day, before going back to their own shops, and Viktor went to greet his customers and let the day pass, pleasant as always.

 

*

 

The next few days went by in whirlwind of laugher and colors. And weeks turned into months. Yuuri decided to stay and taught children how to dance in the gardens or at the local theatre. No one asked where he was from nor commented on the fact that he was a doll, for they were happy to see such a bright young man who brought happiness whenever he went. He'd hold hands with various children and swept them off their feet, tickle them until they begged him to stop, yet wanted him to continue. When young men went to the market on their own, sad and in search for comfort, they went to the theatre and watched Yuuri dance instead for going for the bottle of whiskey by their sofa. There was something in the way Yuuri moved, smiled, acted which put others at ease. They forgot their worries by watching this beauty flourish within each dance move and each smile.

 

But where they gained a muse and a confident, Viktor gained a treasure.

 

He could embrace Yuuri for hours, could talk to him for days. He'd given up a lot time ago on his dream to be human, but ever since he realized how happy he was, he would have this small, almost unnoticeable voice in the back of his head telling him that maybe, just _maybe_ there was a tiny chance that he'd find a way one day. That maybe he deserved to be happy, just like anyone else. But right afterwards, he'd shrug it off. Both Yuuri and him , despite their happiness, knew that their end would come soon. It was because of the little things. The ticking sound getting louder from time to time, an arm refusing to move despite the hinges being perfectly clean and oiled, it was the headaches and coughs that weren't supposed to happen at all.

 

But they still enjoyed the time they had left.

 

They played with Otabek and Yuri when they came to see them, Viktor still tried to teach everything he could to Yuri. But he knew he couldn't teach him everything. So he would have to make sure to leave some books and a letter to him, and one for Christophe and Phichit as well. Yuuri didn't want to leave the children, nor did he went to leave his little boys. So he made sure to write them a letter. It felt weird to write letters that might as well be wills, while they seemed so young. But this is how life was. And though Viktor didn't know why Yuuri and him constantly had this impression of déjà vu, they didn't care, for they found another sort of Love in each other's arms and presence.

 

They celebrated Yuri's birthday, buying him a cake large enough to feed an army. Although the one thing Viktor would clearly remember was when Yuri and him asked Yuuri if he could bow down a little, and without a warning they pushed his head onto the cake. Yet as soon as he had started to laugh, Yuuri grabbed his lover's head and did the same to him, explaining that at least now, they matched. And all the guests – most of them Yuuri's students who got close to Yuri over time, especially this young boy named Kenjirou who seemed to be worshipping Yuuri and said that he inspired him to become a dancer himself.

 

And though winter came without a warning, the warmth that surrounded this little family was still as pleasant as ever.

 

*

 

“Yuuri, would you like to walk by the river with me today?” Though he had told Yuuri about it, how he'd stay here with Yakov for hours. But there was one thing he never talked about, and he thought that tonight would be a good occasion to do so. They didn't have much time left, so he'll treasure every minute like it was the last. It might be the last time he'll get to hear Yuri complain or laugh, see Phichit covering Christophe in kisses while they were both drunk on champagne, talking with Nikolai, seeing his customers' smiles. Watching Yuuri dancing late at night in the garden. And it might as well be the case. Yuuri looked up from the book he was reading.

 

“I'd love to, and you can maybe show me if you can waltz now. I've been teaching you for a while now, after all.” The little bite was said with fondness. Viktor chuckled, before going back to his room to see if the velvet box bought the night before was indeed there, he put it in his pocket, glad that his skirt had pockets. That all orders were wrapped up with their usual little card. He quietly headed out of his room to look at Yuuri. Sitting by the stained glass window, he read his book without a care in the world as colors danced on his skin, and he looked like a marble statue, too beautiful to even be touched.

 

He looked beautiful, completely frozen in time like this.

 

And Viktor thought that he wanted to engrave this image in his soul, as he held his beloved's hand and headed outside.

 

*

 

The stars, the night sky watching over them, the melody of water flowing and laugher echoing in the night. Sweet words of affection and hands clasped together. And then, the sound of Viktor's crystalline voice, more mechanical than it used to be. Yet as beautiful as it used to be. Though Yuuri's moves and gestures felt more strained, more painful, he still moved with grace. Viktor couldn't take his eyes off him. As soon as they arrived to Viktor's usual spot, they sat on the grass. Though they couldn't not quite feel it – merely a faint touch of the wind - the night breeze kissed their hair, somehow putting them at ease.

 

“You know Yuuri, I used to sit there a lot with Yakov. One day, we sat here like usual and we saw a shooting star.” Yuuri silently sat there, unsure of what of expect. “And I wished to stay with him a little longer. But deep down, what I wanted the most was to be human. I wanted to cry for him, and be able to feel him like others did. We tried for years to find a solution, some potion or spell that could help. Yakov would spend entire nights reading books to try to help me.” He paused. “And we found nothing so after a while, I started to wonder if fate, 'destiny' wasn't trying to tell me to just...give up. That for some reason I didn't deserve it.”

 

“Viktor, you-”

 

“Please let me finish.” He grabbed Yuuri's hand, as if to give himself the strength to continue. “But even though I gave up on that dream, I started to change. When I see you dancing with Yuri, or with the other kids, or when I remember Yuri's birthday party, I just feel like I deserve it after all. I don't know what I did to be so happy, but if I am, then _maybe_ this means that I deserve it, right? Maybe I can be happy. Maybe one day we'll find a way to be humans. I know we don't have much time left, I don't know how much exactly, but we can try again. You and Yuri gave me hope again.” Yuuri found himself unable to speak. He forgot what he wanted to say earlier. And as he stayed there, he simply could stare at his lover in awe, at this angel bathed in the moonlight. Viktor then took out the box from his pocket and opened it.

 

Yuuri couldn't believe it. He looked at the ring – exquisite work, with a sapphire amidst the silver – and though he already knew what Viktor was going to say, he wanted to hear him saying it.

 

“Yuuri, even if we had met in a different time, in a different world, I would still feel the same way about you. I don't know if we'll ever be human, but for as long we're still here, will you please marry me? Now, more than ever, I know that whether or not we can be human, we deserve it. We deserve to be happy, just like anyone else.” He waited for Yuuri's response, but before answering his beloved, Yuuri pulled out a box similar to Viktor's, at the latter's surprise. Watching Viktor's face with an affection that couldn't be easily matched, he finally spoke.

 

“I feel the same, and well, it looks like we had the same idea, so you know my answer.” He opened the box to reveal a ring, almost identical to Viktor's, although this one had a purple jewel. “Viktor, I love you. Be it in this life or in the next, whether or not we're human, I'll always love you. Whether you're a magician, a pirate or a doll, we'll always be together.” Seeing Viktor's starstruck expression, Yuuri couldn't help but chuckled. “So yes Viktor, you wonderful, wonderful _man_ , I'll marry you.” Viktor put the ring on Yuuri's finger, with the same starstruck look, and Yuuri did the same with his own ring, looking at Viktor like he was the most precious being in the universe.

 

Unable to contain his joy, Viktor grabbed Yuuri's hand and made him spin on the grass, as if they were on a dance floor.

 

“God, if I was human I would be crying right now!” They both laughed as Yuuri let himself be guided by Viktor. Each step brought them closer to their demise, yet they let the magic guide them and most of all, make them remember.

 

One step, two steps, two steps.

 

A dance was all it took, is all it takes, and all it will take for these two lovers to find each other again. As Viktor and Yuuri danced together under the moonlight, Viktor's hair seemed to appear longer, his clothes changed for that of a magician's robes. Yuuri had a pair of glasses on his nose, his own robes looked like there had been made with a fragment of the night sky. And then, there they were dancing once again as dolls. Dolls who finally realized that just like anyone else, they deserved to be happy, to spent their days in the sun with their little boy. Now, there were simply newlyweds and despite knowing that their end was near. But for the first time, ever since Viktor lost Yakov, ever since Yuuri lost his parents, they felt something they hadn't felt in a long time.

 

Pure, undiluted happiness and most of all...

 

Hope.

 

*

_Dear Yuri,_

 

_If you are reading this, then my magic has withered away. I am so sorry that we couldn't continue our lessons together. Please know that knowing you was one of the best things that happened to me, my dear boy. I love you more than words on a simple letter could say. Ever since you came to the shop for the first time, you've only brought me happiness. You and Yuuri were the ones that made my life worth living. Everything in this shop is yours, my boy. I'll leave everything to you, and I want you to promise one thing._

 

_Promise me that no matter how sad you are, no matter how much you miss us, please move forward. I don't want you to forget about us, but I don't want you to live in the past. I want you to have a long, happy life with your friends and family. I want you to keep on seeing Otabek and walk that path together. I know you must be angry, but it was bound to happen sooner or later, but we didn't want to worry you. Although we were not related by blood, you'll always be my son, in this life or in the next. You are a brave boy and for you, I'd pick up the stars in the sky and bring them to you if I could._

 

_I love you more that I can say,_

 

_Viktor._

 

*

 

Yuri and Otabek were walking together, planning to surprise Viktor and Yuuri. It was quite late, but the streets were safe enough for two little boys visiting their friends. They both had flowers in their hands, and Otabek brought some cakes his mother made, so that he could share them with Yuri while they were there. Happily talking about their day, the boys walked to the shop, without a care in the world, without even taking time to imagine what could go wrong. With rosy cheeks and a bright grin, he tightly held his friend's hand.

 

*

 

_Dear Yuri,_

 

_I am sorry we didn't get to spend a lot of time together. I wanted to teach you so many things, I wanted to see you grow up into a fine young man and take over Viktor's shop. When we danced together at that festival, I can assure you that you were the most wonderful dance partner I ever had. I love you so much, my boy. Until I found you and Viktor again, I had stopped believing in miracles. But you were our miracle. You don't realize how precious and dear you were and are to us. I don't think words ever will be enough to say how much I love you. I spent a lot of time on my own, but thanks to you – and Viktor of course, we mustn't forget him – I forgot what being alone felt like._

 

_Please be happy. Life won't be a bed of roses all the time, nor will it be a tragedy. It's a strange mix of both, and though it will be hard at times, never forget that there always will be people who'll be there for you. You are never alone, even when you think you are. Viktor and wished that we could a bit longer, but unfortunately, we can't. If you feel sad, please remember all the good, happy moments we spent together in this shop, however short they may be. No matter what, never forget that we loved you like our own child._

 

_I love you more than I can say,_

 

_Yuuri._

 

_*_

 

They were back soon enough, with rings on their fingers and love within their hearts. Yuuri and Viktor sat on the ground, on the carpet and held each other as if it was the last time they'd have the chance to do so. Yet as soon as Viktor wanted to open his mouth to say to Yuuri how much he loved him, he noticed that something was off. He could still faintly hear a ticking sound, this terrible song of cogs and well oiled mechanisms that he had finally come to accept. But there was the problem. There was a ticking noise, there was cacophony of notes he had wanted to get rid of.

 

But only his melody could be heard.

 

“Yuu...ri?” His voice had changed, and soon, he wouldn't be able to speak. But for now, he was cursing fate for this cruel twist. If they couldn't be human, then so be it, but for...for Yuuri's magic to wither away before his own was too much. As his movements became stiff, as the cogs were slowing down, he wished he could sob to at least let a part of his sadness go away with his tears. For all he could do now, was to realize that his lover had become nothing more than a pretty, inanimate doll, just like all those other toys in his shop. And as Viktor felt himself disappear, he tried to remember all he could remember about his own heaven. The ring on Yuuri's finger, the beautiful stained glass windows, the sound of footsteps coming closer. The packages that needed to be delivered tomorrow, the bowl of sweets he kept for Yuri, and his favorite shirt that needed to be ironed and -

 

Nothing.

 

Simply the sound of wood falling on wood, of a silver haired doll laying on another one's lap, working no more.

 

_But at least, I believe that I deserved to be happy._

 

_That even though I never became what I wanted to be,_

 

_I believed._

 

_*_

 

“Yura, the door's open. They never forget to close the door usually...” Both boys had arrived to the shop and entered, although not without being careful, for they were unsure of what to expect. They closed the door and put the cakes and flowers on the table, before both looking for Viktor and Yuuri. They called their names, and as they heard nothing – no answer, not even a simple “ _I'm coming, just wait a second_ ” - they started to grow worried, for they started to imagine the worst scenarios possible. Until Yuri noticed their figures near the sofa, by the backyard's door. His face instantly lit up, and he grabbed Otabek's hand to run straight to the back of the shop.

 

_Viktor pulled him up in his arms, a bright smile on his face. Calling him his little monster, although he was already thirteen. Viktor told him that one day he wouldn't be able to carry Yuri, and Yuri would have to carry him instead. He put him on his chair, for it was his favorite one in the entire shop for a reason Viktor couldn't understand. But still, he ruffled his hair and gave him his assignments for the day, while Viktor worked on his own orders._

 

“Beka, they're just here! Look. Maybe they just forgot to close the shop.”

 

_Yuuri and Yuri waited behind the door for the right opportunity. They knew that Christophe would be coming by soon, and they were definitely going to give him a good scare. As soon as they saw Christophe coming, they leaped from their hideout and completely taken off guard, Chris fell on the puddle right in front of him. Viktor, who happened to be accompanying him this time, cackled along with this family, while Christophe let one curse after the other come out of his mouth._

 

They both kneeled by the wooden dolls. Yuri hugged Yuuri tightly and this was when he realized how everything about this whole situation. He couldn't hear anything, and Otabek must have noticed it too, for he moved closer to his friend, and took him in his arms without saying anything. Because he knew what was coming. Yuri couldn't believe it, didn't want to believe it. He freed himself from his friend's embrace, to shake Viktor and Yuuri, but he got no answer. No sound coming from them. Not a single word, not a single laugh or complain. This wasn't how things were supposed to be. They were supposed to be standing, and hug him. Viktor should be so motionless, and Yuuri should be smiling that radiant smile of his.

 

“Please...don't leave me...”

 

And so, the first drop fell on the carpet.

 

“This is so unfair...I don't want you to leave...”

 

And another.

 

“Why did you leave?”

 

And another.

 

Soon enough, his sobs filled the entire place, piercing Otabek's heart as he desperately tried to hold him. He let Yuri wet his shirt and cry as much as he wanted to. He let him curse the gods, curse the stars which did nothing to help him. He hoped that he would wake up from this terrible nightmare, that as soon as he went to sleep and woke up the next day, all of this would just have been a terrible nightmare. If a child's tears and please could tear the heavens apart, Yuri's would. For an ocean of sadness seemed to be flowing out of this boy's eyes. He couldn't stop it. He held onto his friend, his rock, his sole lifeline. And if it hadn't been for his friend, Yuri wouldn't been aware of the little, golden butterflies surrounding his friends.

 

“Yuri, look...”

 

*

 

 

 

Christophe and Phichit held hands as they stood by the shop's entrance, a satisfied smile on their faces, as golden butterflies batted their wings around them. They had been waiting for this moment for such a long time, and there was only one thing they could think about, as their magic was released for the first time in an eternity.

 

_'About time you started to believe, you idiots.'_

 

 

 

_*_

 

“What's happening...?” Yuri stayed in Otabek's arms, as he watch the spectacle before his eyes. As the golden butterflies that covered his friends bodies were slowly disappearing, Yuuri and Viktor opened their eyes. Yuri was too shocked to say anything, as his friends woke up. Yuuri could only look at his hands, at Viktor face, could feel these new sensations. He didn't know how such a thing was even possible. He closed his eyes, and instead of this awful ticking sound, all he could hear was the sound of his beating _heart_. He put a hand on his heart and as soon as he did so, his throat felt tighter and a single tear rolled down his cheek. He looked at Viktor and as his lover never seemed more beautiful.

 

Viktor was ecstatic, he had a wide grin on his face as he touched his body and then moved his hands towards Yuuri's face, cupping his cheeks. They were both crying, sobbing their hearts out for the first time. The first time of many to come, that was for sure.

 

“Yuuri, I- I can feel you and you're alive and breathing, I am – we are – how is this possible?” Yuuri covered Viktor's hands with his own, as his face mirrored that of Viktor, a bright smile as crystals fell down their eyes.

 

“Viktor, I – don't know how but, we're human, I don't know how -” he couldn't find the right words, for he was too overwhelmed by his own happiness. Viktor slowly moved Yuuri's face towards his, to simply press his lips against Yuuri's. They had no experience at all, but they knew that now, they had all the time in the world to learn new things together. This was but a chaste, tender caress but it was as if they tasted the heavens. They knew that from now on, they would have to worry about other things and that one day, they would be gone. But for now, all that mattered was that they were reunited.

 

“Viktor, Yuuri...you guys are alive...?” It was only then that they noticed Yuri and Otabek's presence. One completely shocked and at a loss, completely speechless, while the other was crying even harder than he was a minute ago. “You're human, you're okay now, you're okay!” Both men didn't hesitate one second, they tightly embraced both boys and though Otabek rarely cried, he couldn't help but let his tears flow freely as he was surrounded by so much love. It was a touching moment, unlike any others. He let his arms rest around Yuri's waist as they were both wrapped in a loving embrace.

 

And when the sun rose high in the sky, as the stained glass windows casted their colors on them and make two silver rings shine brighter, they all knew that they would always remember an important lesson. _Sometimes, all you need to do, is to simply believe._ To believe in yourself, to believe in those who love you dearly, and to believe that you deserve the happiness that is bestowed upon you.

 

 

 

And thus, Viktor and his family lived happily ever after.

 

The trials he would face during his life as a man were numerous, but he overcame them all.

 

As for what happens next, well.

 

_That is another story, for another time._

 

 

 

_The End._

 

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, reviews/fanarts/weird messages on tumblr are always welcome! 
> 
> realm-of-spells.tumblr.com


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